Miles from civilization, in the middle of the Arctic, I found myself gliding across the waves on a speedboat captained by a Greenlandic man in a baseball cap. It was summertime in Greenland and I was on a mission to photograph icebergs. Myself along with three other photographers had hired our captain to navigate us to a massive iceberg miles off of the coast of the mainland. We had seen it from a distance and yet the closer we got, the more apparent its size became. This iceberg that had broken off of the glacier was the size of a small city. But there was something else that made this iceberg even more alluring. Almost as if artificial, the top of the iceberg had perfectly shaped waves descending off of one another like frozen sand dunes. To think that nature could create such complex perfection within its sculptures gave me a mixed feeling of perplexity with sheer aw. Like I was bearing witness to something that shouldn't exist, yet there it was, right in front of me. Then it happened. Through my viewfinder, as I snapped away at the shutter, an orange glow cracked over the perfect waves of ice. Little had I known at the time that this night was coincidentally the night of the longest blood moon of the 21st century. And as Luna rose, sitting atop of her icy throne at the top of the world, I captured an intimate moment with nature that should have never been witnessed. But thanks to complete dumb luck, here it was and there I was. A spectator of something much bigger than me. And a memory that will forever be frozen inside of my heart and mind.